


Variables

by Meg13



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: AU, F/M, because i always write a baby fic, still bonded, vendel IS amused
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-03-30 09:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13948974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meg13/pseuds/Meg13
Summary: Magic is tricky and not always reliable, especially when you add an unexpected twist.





	1. THE PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> expanded into a multi-chaptered fic, though updates will be sporadic. 
> 
> the prologue doesn't HAVE to be re-read, but i'd recommend it.

**THE PROLOGUE**

“Unexpected.”

Barbara frowns and looks up as Vendel tilts his head to the left, thoughtfully regarding the gem in his claws. She knows the incantation he recited should have dissolved the bond between her and Walter by now – that the mental stress should have rendered her unconscious and that her memory of the last six weeks should be irreparably damaged – but neither of those things have happened and she has absolutely no idea why.

“Did it work?” Jim asks eagerly. “Mom, what do you remember?”

“Everything,” Barbara answers stiffly and shifts onto her elbows to survey her surroundings. It’s obvious she’s been brought to some sort of workshop or treatment facility, but there is no machinery or medical equipment to speak of, so she can’t be completely sure. “I thought –“ Her gaze lands on Walter’s crumpled form and her heart skips a beat. “What happened to Walt? Is he alive?”

“He is alive,” Vendel says as he places a large, coral-colored crystal onto a nearby workbench. “And it seems, though I am not entirely sure, that your injuries have been transferred entirely to him.”

“No, that can’t be right.” Barbara raises her hand to the left side of her neck. The wound is still there, long and jagged and deep, but the agonizing pain has ebbed to nothing more than a light pressure. “The cut is still here.”

“The pain, perhaps?” Vendel scratches his chin, contemplating their course of action. None of them, especially the fidgeting Trollhunter, seem too keen to wait until the changeling has regained consciousness for answers, so he takes the most direct route possible by kicking the inert man in the shoulder. Hard. “Did you feel that, Barb-a-ra?”

Barbara shakes her head. “No.”

“Hmm…” Vendel looks at Jim. “Trollhunter, pinch your mother.”

“Jim, don’t you dare –“

“Did you feel _that_?”

“No,” Barbara answers as she shifts her weight to one forearm in order to swat at Jim’s offensive fingers. Her son steps out of range, smirking playfully, and she turns back to the ancient troll. “Did Walter?”

 “I,” Vendel says slowly, deliberately, “believe so.”

“Wait,” Jim’s grin slips away and his brow furrows, “does that mean they’re still bonded? I thought we did everything right. Was it the wrong incantation?”

“Ancient magic can be very unstable,” Vendel answers after a brief hesitation. “If the conditions are not precise, if there is one unchecked variable the whole spell can become compromised.”

“Variables?” Barbara narrows her eyes at the ancient troll, not at all liking the direction this conversation is headed. “What kind of variables?”

“Is there a chance,” Vendel asks, “that you are with child?”

Not the response she’d been expecting.

“What? No.” Barbara shakes her head, vehemently denying the possibility. “No, absolutely not. I can’t be. Walt is sterile. He said so when I mentioned condoms the first time we –“

Jim chokes, horrified.

“Changelings are, by nature, unable to reproduce,” Vendel admits slowly. “But the bond you share may have affected his, ah… potency? If I’m correct, the spell was originally part of an ancient mating ritual which, not only heightened physical and emotional connectivity, but also increased fertility. And if you are pregnant, the spell may have adapted to protect you and the child. Stricklander, as the traditional protector, will feel your sensations as well as his own. It would explain why the pain caused him to lose consciousness.”

Barbara blinks, unable to fully process what Vendel has just said, before hissing, “That _asshole_. I’m gonna _kill_ him.”

“I doubt he knew,” Vendel tells her evenly. “By the time Angor Rot would have used it, the intention of the spell had already been twisted beyond recognition. This will be news to him as well.”

“Wait, we don’t even know for sure if you…” Jim shivers with disgust. “You seriously had sex with him?”

“That’s none of your business.” Barbara rolls her eyes before turning her attention back to Vendel. “Is there a way we can confirm it? Do you have a magic amulet or a gem or something? Or should I just send Jim to the nearest Walgreens?”

Jim takes a step back, hands held out in front of him. “That’s not happening!”

“You can kill trolls twice your size, but you can’t go buy a pregnancy test for your mother?” Barbara twists around to quirk an eyebrow at him.

 “Well, I’d be happy to pick up some _tampons_ ,” Jim replies sarcastically, “but Strickler just made those unnecessary for the next nine months.”

“There is a Kinderstone in my workshop,” Vendel interrupts, though he is rather entertained by the human bickering. “I will fetch it and return shortly.”

Barbara nods, and watches Vendel shuffle away before sitting up and kicking her legs over the side of the stone table. They may have just been arguing, but Jim immediately walks into her embrace when she holds her arms out. “Honey, I’m so sorry,” she murmurs into his hair. “I’ve made such a mess.”

“ _You_ haven’t made a mess of anything,” the bitterness in Jim’s tone is palpable. “Strickler’s the one who caused all of this to happen with that _stupid_ enchantment.”

“Well, yes,” Barbara agrees with a low, humorless chuckle. “But I’m the one who refused to listen to your objections and I’m the one who made the decision to pursue a relationship with him. And… I’m the one who hasn’t been there for you. I should have been more involved, should have spent more time being a mom than a doctor.” She leans back to look him in the eyes. “Jim, I promise I’ll cut back hours at the hospital, so I can spend more time with you. And when this is all over –“

“Mom,” Jim interrupts gently, “it’s never gonna be over. There may be times when it’s less chaotic, but I’ll always be the Trollhunter. And if you are… Well, you know. Then there will be a baby to look out for, too.”

“You’re right.” Barbara sighs and bites her bottom lip. How could she have been so blind to her child’s nighttime activities? How could she have missed all the warning signs that something wasn’t right with her son? “You’ve always been a smart boy, but when did you become so wise?”

Jim shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Probably when I realized there was no backing out of being the Trollhunter and that I should just try to make the best of it. Mom, what are we going to do about him?”

“Now that’s a good question,” Barbara breathes as her gaze settles on Walter again. She’s furious with him and knows it would be best for everyone if she would just walk away – just move on with her life and wash her hands of him altogether – but the mere thought of never seeing him again makes her heart _ache_. She’s fallen hard and she’s fallen fast, and, damnit, she’s still in love with him. “And I think… we’ll just have to figure it out as we go.”

The answer isn’t completely satisfying, but Jim nods anyway and settles back into his mother’s embrace until Vendel reappears a few moments later. There’s a small, clear crystal hanging from a chain around one of the troll’s claws that he holds up as he approaches. “This,” he says as Jim steps away to give him space to work, “is the Kinderstone. It will tell us if you are, indeed, with child. Please hold out your wrist.”

Barbara takes a deep breath and nods as she stretches her arm outward. Vendel loosens his grip on the chain to let the crystal dangle above her wrist and all three of them watch intently as the Kinderstone sways back and forth. Nothing happens, and Barbara’s rapidly beating heart begins to calm until, just as a pained groan issues from the floor, the crystal begins emanating a dull, blue light.

“Shit.”

Walter groans again and manages to pull himself off the cold, hard floor as Barbara’s eyes dart past the crystal to glare at him. “What… What happened? Did it –“ Walter freezes, wide-eyed, upon noticing the gem glowing above Barbara’s wrist. “Is that a Kinderstone?”  

“Congratulations, Stricklander,” Vendel smirks devilishly at the bewildered changeling. “It seems you’ll be the first man in history to truly understand the pain of childbirth.”


	2. THE CONFIRMATION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first OB appointment doesn't go quite as well as Walter hopes. it’s awkward, to say the least, and leaves him feeling… a little violated? and irrationally jealous?

**THE CONFIRMATION**

“Turn around.”

Walter blinks. “What?”

“I said,” Barbara gestures to the corner of the small, cramped exam room with her index finger, “turn around.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to take my pants off.”

Failing to see the logic in her argument, Walter repeats, “What?”

“I need to take my pants off and I don’t want you to watch,” Barbara says hotly, her hands on her hips. “Please turn around.”

“But I’ve seen you without pants-“

“That was before I found out you lied to me, cast a magic spell on me, tried to kill my son,” she growls, “and, oh yes! Knocked me up. Now. _Turn around_.”

Walter takes a step back, his hands held in front of him to signal surrender, and quickly spins to face the wall. He’s not afraid, per se, but Barbara is a rather formidable woman and he did hit her with a proverbial truckload of bullshit a few hours ago, so it’s probably best to just do as she commands.

“Okay,” Barbara says a minute later, crunching and crinkling as she makes herself comfortable on the paper-lined exam table. “You can turn back around.”

He turns to find her perched on the table with a thin disposable sheet draped over her bare lap. The nurse had been a bit vague and Barbara hasn’t been forthcoming at all, so he’s not quite sure what to expect as this last-minute appointment progresses but it seems there will be some sort of pelvic exam involved. A procedure that, judging from the look on her face, is not something Barbara is overly enthusiastic about.

Might as well add it to the growing list of reasons for her to despise him.

“Barbara, I-”

But whatever it is he had been trying to say is cut off as a soft knock echoes through the little room.

“It’s fine, Nik,” Barbara calls, as she tucks the sheet more securely under her thighs. “You can come in.”

“Barb,” comes the deep, muffled response and Walter’s brow furrows at the familiar use of the nicknames. He may not be an expert when it comes to the hospital’s inter-department cooperation and camaraderie but he’s pretty damn sure Barbara has never mentioned a _Nik_ from Obstetrics before. And his annoyance only grows when the tall, ridiculously toned OB wraps his arms around Barbara’s shoulders a moment later.

“It’s been a while,” Barbara sighs into the man’s chest. “I’m sorry I haven’t called, but…”

“You’ve obviously been very busy,” Nik finishes for her, smiling into her hair. He leans back and smirks mischievously. “You wouldn’t be coming to see me, otherwise.”

Walter’s eyebrows narrow.

“So,” Nik says slowly, taking a step back from Barbara for a better look at Walter. The changeling bristles, uncomfortable under the scrutinizing glare of the other man and his obnoxiously blue eyes. “This is the boyfriend, huh?”

“I don’t think the term ‘boyfriend’ applies,” Barbara says, and Walter derives no satisfaction from the hint of sorrow in her tone. “At least, not anymore.”

Nik turns back to her, frowning. “That must have been a recent development.”

“Very recent,” Walter mumbles, eyes dropping to his dusty shoes as the memory of her glaring up at him from that stone slab flashes through his mind.  

Nik glances at him and then back to Barbara, his gaze lingering on the bandages adorning her neck. “Do I need to kick his ass?”

“I’d like to see you try,” Walter snorts automatically, rolling his eyes. He may not look like much in his human guise, but he could easily take the other man with one arm tied behind his back. Or, currently, with one arm in a sling.

“Walter,” Barbara warns, scowling at him. “Maybe a proper introduction is in order? The three of us _will_ be spending a lot of time together over the next few months. Doctor Nikolos Kostopoulos, Walter Strickler. Walt, this is Nik.”

Walter forces a strained, canine-baring smile onto his face and, for Barbara’s sake, reluctantly shakes the doctor’s hand. “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”

“Yes, well,” Nik’s sly smile is so brilliant that it’s like something out of a toothpaste commercial, “Barb and I _have_ known each other a very long time.”

Walter, who doesn’t appreciate the suggestive lilt in Nik’s voice at all, forces himself to drop the man’s hand before he breaks it.

“And you still owe me for that weekend in Tahoe,” Barbara says, giving him a mockingly severe look. “That little stunt you pulled almost wound up on my permanent record.”

“You were a very willing participant,” Nik counters as he steps back to the table. “And I still think it’s _your_ fault. You’re the one who got cold feet about doing it so close to the trail. If you hadn’t taken so long trying to decide if it were worth the risk, that ranger never would have caught us.”

“True,” Barbara concedes, smirking. “And I guess you _did_ manage to get us both off.”

Yep, that’s enough.

Walter coughs, effectively drawing their attention, and quirks an irked eyebrow. “Are we going to get started soon? Or shall I just leave the two of you alone to chat a little longer?”

“Right.” Nik glances amusedly at Barbara before gracefully taking a seat on the rolling stool. “Since you decided to call in this little favor on my lunch break, we’re just going to do a quick confirmation and then we’ll schedule an actual appointment based on what we find. Okay?”

Barbara nods stiffly, and Nik gives her a reassuring pat on the knee before rolling away to collect equipment.

“I’m assuming,” Nik says over his shoulder as he rifles through a drawer, “you got a positive on a home test?”

“Uh…” Barbara shrugs. Home test, magic glowing rock? Same difference. “Sure.”

“When did your last period end?”

“I, um…” Barbara blushes and steadily refuses to look in Walter’s direction. “Maybe last month? Around the twentieth?”

 “Were you using protection?”

“No,” Walter grudgingly fields this one. “I’m not able to… Well, I _thought_ I was unable to have children.”

“Hmm,” Nik hums, swiveling around to click a few buttons on the ultrasound keyboard. He squints as the screen comes to life and then rolls back to the end of the exam table holding a long, white wand-shaped instrument in his hands. “Any chance of STD’s?”

“Of course not,” Walter answers indignantly and then nods at the equipment in Nik’s hand. “What’s that for?”

“It’s too early for an external ultrasound,” Barbara sighs, wrinkling her nose as she situates her heels in the stirrups and then scoots down to the very edge of the table. “That will give us an internal view.”

“Internal?” Walter repeats faintly, paling. “He’s going to stick that…”

And that’s when Barbara realizes she may not be the only one getting ready to have a foreign object shoved inside her this afternoon. “Yup.”

“Alright, Barb,” Nik says, glancing from the screen to the probe. “Relax your legs. Good. Now this may be a bit uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable doesn’t even begin to describe the cold, wet, _solid_ pressure that seemingly pushes into Walter’s pelvic cavity a moment later. He squeaks, green eyes wide with the shock of how _real_ the phantom invasion actually feels.

“Let me just,” Nik mutters at the screen, completely oblivious to the horrified squirming behind him, “try for a better angle.”

Walter’s spine snaps ramrod straight, his entire body tensing as Nik makes his adjustments. He blinks and swallows hard as the wand _turns_ , and glances down to find Barbara looking up at him with a strained smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. She’s enjoying watching him fidget, he realizes with a wince as the probe presses a fraction deeper.

 “Ah,” Nik announces suddenly. “There. See?”

The soon-to-be-parents turn to the screen as one, and Walter’s eyebrows quirk as he considers the pod-shaped anomaly Nik is pointing at. It’s so odd, he thinks, that this tiny, undefinable cluster of cells only a few millimeters long has the power to turn his world upside-down so completely. “That’s it?”

“You were expecting more?” Nik baits dryly. “Twins, maybe?”

Walter turns wide, panicked eyes on him. “There are two?”

“I’m joking,” Nik says, rolling his eyes at the other man’s gullibility. “Though we can’t officially rule it out until six weeks or so. Barb, do twins run in your family?”

Barbara, who has only been half-listening to Nik’s teasing, pulls her gaze away from the screen to find the two men staring at her expectantly. “Um, no. None.”

Walter literally sighs in relief. The thought of one baby is terrifying enough, but two might send him into cardiac arrest. At least, he thinks, there’s no biological reason for an increased chance of multiples. Though he’s still unsure how fertile that enchantment actually made them and whether that could be a factor.

“I’d say your four weeks along,” Nik says, turning back to the machine. He clicks a few keys and a small printer whirrs into life. “Give or take a few days. We’ll have a better idea at your next appointment, but your current due date is... Thanksgiving, actually.”

“Thanks, Nik,” Barbara murmurs, glancing at the screen once more before turning her eyes to the ceiling tiles. “We’re done for now?”

Nik nods, and Walter barely contains his yelp a second later when the pressure against his pubic bone suddenly, and very unexpectedly, disappears. He wiggles his lower half, testing to make sure everything is still in its proper place, as Barbara hurriedly resumes a seated position.

“You two probably have a lot to talk about, so I’ll have Lisa give you a call Monday morning to schedule your next appointment,” Nik says, pulling off his gloves and tossing them into the bio-hazard can. He pulls the pictures from the printer. “Barb, do you want to do dinner tomorrow night? It’s been a while and I’d like to catch up.”

Barbara nods, an almost relieved smile on her face. “I’d like that.”

“I’ll text you later.” He winks, and then turns to Walter with a smug look. “It was… nice meeting you. And congrats.” He hands Walter the sonogram pictures and none-too-gently clasps the changeling on his (good) shoulder before exiting the room, leaving a sneering Walter in his wake.

“How do you know him?”

Barbara rolls her eyes, though Walter is too absorbed in trying to glare a hole through the door to see it, and chooses to completely ignore his question as she hops off the table. “Back to your corner.”

“After all that?” Walter snorts incredulously but turns away as requested. “When do they start doing the external ultrasounds?”

“So, you’re saying you did _not_ enjoy that?” Barbara asks, shaking her head and pulls her dirty, worn scrub pants back on.

“I would place it somewhere between grading Mister Palchuk’s essay on the fall of the Roman Empire,” he turns when Barbara taps him on the shoulder, “and being set upon by a horde of goblins.”

“Yeah,” Barbara chuckles humorlessly, “wasn’t much fun for me either.”

They’re standing close, very close, and Walter swallows hard at the proximity. He wants to pull her against him, to wrap his arms around her and truly _breathe_ for the first time since discovering the Inferna Copula had gone missing. But he doesn’t. “Barbara –“

“I’m exhausted, Walt,” Barbara interrupts abruptly. “We have a lot to talk about, but I think it can wait until we’ve had a nap.”

Walter frowns. The thought of sleeping soundly without Barbara tucked safely against his chest is laughable after the events that have recently transpired, but he can always try to… Wait, no. His apartment has surely been compromised at this point. He could curl up in his office chair at the school, but that would probably just lead to a stiff neck. A hotel, maybe?

“I’d offer you my couch,” Barbara says, correctly interpreting the uncertainty on his face, “but it was completely destroyed last night.”

“I’ll pay for a new one,” Walter quickly promises, his voice gruff and earnest. “I’ll pay for everything. Furniture, paint… you name it.”

“Yes, I know you will.” Barbara chuckles. “And you’re in luck, because I have a perfectly good guest room that we managed to leave intact. It’s yours until you can find another place.”

“You’d trust me?” Walter asks, genuinely surprised by her generosity. “After everything I’ve done?”

“No.” Barbara shakes her head and, as if just realizing how close they’re standing, takes a large step back. “I don’t, and _won’t_ , trust you at all. But I know you’ll respect the boundaries I set and that’s good enough for now.”


	3. THE CHAT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary Wang hits the jackpot and Jim gets a stone... and some help.

**THE CHAT**

He’s sitting at his desk the following Monday, staring blankly out the window. He has yet to touch the cup of coffee procured from the Teacher’s Lounge that morning and the number displayed on his landline signifying voicemails has been steadily climbing all day, the stack of paperwork in his ‘TO DO’ tray is still piled precariously high and the steady ping of new emails have gone unanswered – but he just can’t find it in himself to care.

Walter had a shitty weekend.

His cell suddenly chirps, and he instinctively picks it up off the desk. It’s a text from Barbara. His eyebrows quirk, surprised that she’s reaching out to him when they’ve been steadily ignoring each other since their argument Saturday afternoon, and he silently prays this isn’t an eviction notice as he hesitantly opens the message.

**5/12. 10am.**

Ah, he nods and reaches for his planner to pencil in what he assumes to be the date and time of the next OB appointment. He’s honestly relieved by the invitation, having thought she might exclude him from the process altogether after her _date_ Saturday night.

He drops his forehead to the desk, hard.

That had not been the reason for their argument, though it had soured his mood enough to cause him to stupidly snap at her for her choice of wallpaper and _that_ had been the catalyst for a very long, very intense discussion regarding his intentions for the future. He’d at least been able to convey his desire to prove himself worthy of a second chance or, if nothing else, to successfully co-parent alongside her before she’d furiously asked, “Yeah, but is that really what _you_ want? Or is it just the bond talking?”

He’d been left speechless and she’d gone to dinner with Nik anyway.

Groaning, Walter pulls his head a few inches away from the desk to scan his office and the myriad of work he’s left untouched since last Wednesday. Last Wednesday… Has it really been less than a week since he’d unwittingly taken a proverbial sledgehammer to his relatively comfortable life? Since his scheming and plotting and double-crossing had finally caught up with him? Since he’d lost his home, his girlfriend, and his position of power? His goddamn _dignity_?

He rubs his bruising forehead and sits up. Okay, yes, he’s hit rock bottom but that doesn’t mean he’s lost everything. There’s the baby and the _very_ slim chance of reconciliation with Barbara, and his dubiously tentative truce with Jim, and, his shoulders snap back, the smidgeon of power he wields as the principal of this high school. So, no, everything has not been lost and he _will_ stop wallowing in self-pity. Right now.

A few hours later, after having managed to return all of the emails in his Inbox and redirect Superintendent Higgins’ ire to Principal Redmond over at Arcadia Oaks Academy, Walter stands and stretches. He’s feeling a good deal better now and is contemplating a stroll through the hallowed halls of academia under his command when a knock on the door resounds through his office.

“Come in,” he calls, and frowns when Jim and Toby materialize in the doorway. “Is everything alright? Did your mother –“

“Mom’s fine,” Jim answers irritably. “Miss Janeth sent us because we were talking too much in class.”

“Being sent to the principal’s office for chatting seems a little extreme, don’t you think?” Walter asks, eyeballing the two teenagers skeptically.  

Jim huffs. “She said you have a vested interest in my education.”

“I’m the principal,” Walter says flatly. “I have a vested interest in _everyone’s_ education.”

“I think she said that because you’re dating Dr. Lake,” Toby supplies helpfully. His eyes widen dramatically a split-second later. “Ooh! Do you think she knows you moved in with them? Omigosh! Do you think she knows you put a bun in the oven?”

“Tobes!”

But Jim’s yelp isn’t quite loud enough to smother the very distinct gasp that emanates from just outside the open office door, and Walter’s eyebrows narrow at Toby as he says, “Mr. Domzalski, please tell me Miss Wang is not lurking just out of sight.”

At least Toby has the decency to look ashamed as he leans back on his heels and glances over his shoulder. “Uh, I can’t.”

“Miss Wang,” Walter breathes. “A word, please.”

Mary curses under her breath as she sidles into the room. She hopes his warning is brief so she can begin spreading the juiciest gossip to hit Arcadia Oaks High since Mr. Jeffries and Miss Brown got caught having an affair on school property last year, but Strickler looks like he’s gearing up for a lecture as she innocently asks, “Yes, sir?”

“Miss Wang,” Walter starts coolly, “I know you take great pride in your ability to keep your peers… well-informed of the latest goings-on in this school, but the conversation you just overheard is a deeply personal family matter –“

“Whoa, man!” Jim interrupts, an almost panicked expression on his face. “This isn’t a _family_ anything. You might be living with us, but you aren’t family. My mom dumped you.”

“She _dumped_ you?” Mary squeals, dropping all pretense of innocence altogether. Oh, thank god she skipped math today! “Wow, Mr. Strickler. You must have done something _awful_. Did you cheat on her? Did you -”

“That’s enough,” Walter growls, effectively silencing the giddy teen. “I’m asking that you respect my privacy, and Jim’s, by keeping this conversation to yourself. This situation is still very new, and I would greatly appreciate your cooperation.”

Mary purses her lips and tilts her head in contemplation. “I’ll keep it quiet.”

Good enough.

“Thank you, Miss Wang,” Walter says and gestures to the hallway with a nod. “Please let Miss Janeth know I kept you when you return to class.”

Gossip _and_ a free pass? Mary snorts and disappears without a word, anxious to _whisper_ her findings to Darci the first chance she gets.

“The whole school will know by the end of the day,” Walter mumbles, staring at the spot Mary has just vacated. He shakes his head and turns his attention back to the boys. “There is, actually, something I’d like to discuss with you, young Atlas. You’re free to go, Mr. Domzalski.”

“But…”

“I’m sure Jim will fill you in later, but I’d like to speak with him alone if you don’t mind.” He arches an eyebrow authoritatively and cocks his head. “You can wait outside if you’d like.”

“Fine,” Toby snaps, and glares at Walter suspiciously as he pats Jim encouragingly on the shoulder. “I’ll be out here. Just yell if you need me. I can bring down the hammer.”

Walter rolls his eyes and waits until the door shuts securely behind Toby before crouching down to unlock the bottom desk-drawer. He rummages about for a short moment and then pulls out an old, worn book. “Here.”

“What’s that?” Jim asks, eyeing the book in Walter’s hand cautiously as he crosses the room.

“I have a rather large collection of books dedicated to more… creative methods of torture and death,” Walter says as Jim takes the book from him. He immediately turns to unlock the secret room behind the built-in, explaining over his shoulder, “Most of them were stolen or destroyed by the Janus Order when they ransacked my apartment over the weekend, but I do keep a few on hand for light reading. That one,” he turns just long enough to point at the book Jim is flipping through, “has a rather detailed chapter on Creeper’s Sun and how to combat the effects if infected. I believe there is even a recipe for an antidote.”

“Strickler, I…” Jim looks up from the book, eyes wide in astonishment. “This is unbelievable. We can bring back Aaarrrggghhh.”

“Yes,” Walter murmurs as the bookcase recedes into the floor. He steps into the hidden room and pulls a small leather pouch from one of the shelves before facing Jim again. “I thought it might prove my intentions to _help_ you moving forward. As would this.”

Jim’s forehead wrinkles as Walter dumps a glowing blue, cone-shaped rock onto his palm. He stares at it a moment, unsure of its significance before guessing, “Gee, a friendship rock?”

“You’ll need the last Triumbric Stone to defeat Gunmar,” Walter rolls his eyes, “won’t you?”

“This…” Jim’s jaw drops open as he holds the stone up to get a better look. “This is Gunmar’s Eye?”

“Yes,” Walter says with a satisfied smirk as Jim continues to stare at it in awe. “I’ve been holding onto it for quite some time. You don’t want to know what I went through to acquire it.”

“Wait.” Jim looks up from the eye, a curious expression on his face. “How did you know I’m planning to go into the Darklands?”

“You swore to save Claire’s brother, didn’t you?” Walter shrugs. “And you have the gateway in your possession now, do you not?”

“Well, yeah.” Jim frowns. “But, still…”

“You’re quite predictable,” Walter says, side-stepping the desk to lean back against one of the bookshelves. “I _know_ you, Jim. I know you keep your promises and I intend to help you as best I can.”

“Will you go with me?”

Okay, he hadn't predicted that at all. "What?"

“To the Darklands,” Jim clarifies. “Will you go with me?”

“Oh, no.” Walter shakes his head and waggles his finger in the negative. “Absolutely not. That’s a job for you and the rest of the Scooby gang. I will, however, offer support and provide you with any resources I can. Brains,” he points at himself and then at Jim, “stupidly-optimistic brawn.”

“But you _are_ a resource,” Jim argues before dropping his gaze self-consciously. “And I can’t… I can’t risk losing any of them. Not after Aaarrrggghhh. I just… I can’t.”

“Yet, you’re perfectly willing to risk my life,” Walter deadpans. “Oh, how I feel the love.”

“That’s not it.” Jim rolls his eyes at the dramatics. “None of them have been there, you know? They don’t know the terrain or what kind of creatures we might encounter. I need a guide. I need someone who can show me where to go.”

“And what makes you so certain I can navigate the Darklands?” Walter crosses his arms over his chest. “I haven’t been there in centuries, Jim. And even then, I kept to the barracks or training facilities. I was hooded before and after every match in Gunmar’s Throne Room, and _never_ saw the nursery. I’m sure I’d be of little assistance.”

“You’re scared.”

“Terrified, actually,” Walter snorts, not ashamed in the least. “That place is hell, and I won’t be going back. I will, however, try to prepare _you_ as best I can.”

“How?”

“Let’s discuss strategy during dinner this evening, shall we? I know you like to cook,” he tries not to think about the implications of his next words, “but I could really go for some Chinese. What time should I expect you home?”

Jim hesitates, but he’ll take any help he can get. “Call in the order before eight and I’ll pick it up on my way back from Trollmarket.”

“I will do as commanded, Trollhunter.”

“Hey, Strickler?”

“Hmm?”

“You know that I’m going to rescue all the familiars, right?”

“Yes,” Walter breathes. “Listen, I gave you that stone knowing full well what will happen to me once my familiar is rescued. I’ve given it a lot of thought recently and I… I can’t imagine forcing that life upon an innocent child. Not anymore.”

“Yeah, but what about _your_ child?” Jim asks quietly. “What about my mom?”

“Your mother despises me, remember?” Walter gives him a gentle smile, and nods at the masks lining the bookcase opposite him. “And there are ways to maintain a human guise. Glamour Masks, for example. I’m not going anywhere, Jim. I may not always look like this, but I can still be a… a father, either way.”

Jim swallows and nods. “You know, she doesn’t hate you. Give her some time. She’s just angry right now. And _really_ hurt.”

“Justifiably so,” Walter admits. He takes a deep breath, and then clicks his tongue. “Well, then. It's been fun, but I have work to do. Go back to class.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the fourth version of this chapter and i'm still not happy with it, but i really wanted to get something out asap. next one will be better... i hope.


End file.
